“Hey, there’s still stuff up here!”
Peter’s head was poking through the loft hatch, his hand tugging at the light chord.
“What was that, honey?”
“There’s stuff! Boxes.”
Liza watched as her husband lifted himself into the attic.
She sipped her coffee. “Any antiques?”
“For your Pop to sell for beer money?”
“I was thinking of renovations.”
Something fell down and clattered at Liza’s feet – a child’s doll, its face smudged with soot. Dead glass eyes stared up and she choked at the sudden smell of smoke.
“Honey,…” Liza’s voice was a hoarse whisper.
“We need to go.”
Today’s word was suggested by Bristolian and avid supporter of the OWOS project “Orignal Tracey”. You can follow her on Twitter @.
Tracey suggested her word by sending me a tweet – you can too! Tweet me @ with the hashtag #onewordonestory and I’ll write a 100 word story just for you!
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See you tomorrow for “Principle”.